


Unloved Flowers

by orphan_account



Category: He-Man and the Masters of the Universe
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Androgyny, Bugs & Insects, Dubious Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pheromones, Plants, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Orko's Garden, before the Council of Evil. Lord Buzzoff pays a visit to Evilseed and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unloved Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nellasaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellasaur/gifts).



Little sound carried in the root cellar, just the dripping of the water from recent rainfall and the odd shift and crack of dried wood as Evilseed moved toward the light. Time passed slowly for the creature, and the quiet wrapped around and around like a quiet, comforting blanket. 

It - the agender Plantae golem - grew out through the cellar in thick and thin veins, endlessly seeking new crevices unexplored, barred by the Mossman's magic from a certain point, outside of which it would simply... cease to grow. It was frustrating, though not insurmountable, as the little Trollan Orko had proven when he'd found Evilseed's imprisonment, quite by accident. It still clung to the name that Gray, the little wizard girl, had given to it - the _transgressing plant_ , though it had modified the meaning slightly; now the word served as warning to others that it would neither be contained, nor controlled. 

Another would come. Another would always come. And Evilseed would not waste the next opportunity... 

Little sound carried, true, but the buzzing of insect wings was a sound of great and vital importance to all Plantae life. Evilseed strained to listen, the dull thump outside and then - an Andreenid entered the cavern. 

It smiled with all the separating pieces of its mouth. 

"I know you." 

The Andreenid's body language tightened, bony keratin plates marshaling beautiful natural armor. He was not afraid, not exactly, but he was wary. And well he ought to be. Evilseed had caressed this one before, during the takeover of King Randor's castle. Its vines, every bit a part of it, had mapped the territory of each twisting, bucking limb, raw power that was yet no match for its own.

"Lord Buzzoff." The insect said, antennae high and proud, approaching the seated incarnate with no apparent knowledge of its reach, but Evilseed simply kept sitting, passive, curious. "You will address me with that respect. I've come to make you a proposition." 

If _the proposition_ involved the elemental's freedom - and Evilseed knew it must, there was nothing else it wanted - the homunculus was listening. 

"Are you familiar with the crystal of Prasinus, of Viridas village?" 

Evilseed yawned out oxygen and gulped in an apathetic breath of co2. Its fingers, formed in the loving image of its maker so long ago, curled around its ankle. "'Crystal' is a nonmagical byword, my lord. It is a locus of energy in physical form that resembles a gemstone, as a wizard's staff is a locus of their power that resembles a stick. You may as well call it the 'Stick of Skeletor'... it's crass. Revealing." 

Buzzoff was clearly struggling not to snap, which amused it to no end, "Fine. So you know of the _locus_ of Prasinus."

"Yes." It looked innocently up at the Adreenid, "Though not mine, it shares the same root magic that I do - that which inspires to grow." 

The insect's wings did a double flap downward, that Evilseed found compelling. "Uh huh. There's something wrong with it. If you can fix it, we'll truncate your sentence." 

_I never had a trial!_ Evilseed bit back the unhelpful but completely true complaint, absolutely irate that it was so openly, blatantly, completely, condemned merely for living and doing that which it had been shaped to do all so many centuries ago. 

"The only difference, to you," It said, with growing ire, "Between a welcome plant and an unwelcome one, is what _use_ they have for you. And I am welcome when I have _use_ , and a weed to be ripped out by the root when I do not."

"You tried to destroy the planet," The Andreenid reminded it, as patient as it itself had been for all these years underground, and Evilseed felt that wordless frustration that the suffering felt when put upon by the ignorant suffer _less._

It'd wanted revenge for this discrimination. It had been angry--yes, it had been cruel, but hadn't killed anyone. It only wanted to acquire the limitless energy of the castle in order to ensure it would **never again** be locked away in darkness and silence and loneliness, and it could not articulate centuries of sorrow, of despair it had plumbed depths long before this arrogant insect came crawling out of larval stage.

Still, Buzzoff was trading on capital he didn't even know he had. Evilseed was enormously attracted to him. 

"I'll see about it, but I can't promise that repairing it is within my scope." It remarked, "Though I admit surprise that you did not seek out Kreann’Ot N’Norosh." At Buzzoff's blank multi-eyed stare, it sighed deeply. " _Mossman._ " 

"Oh. Well, unlike you, he's a nomad, and we couldn't find him--" Buzzoff stepped closer--an inch closer, and suddenly the vines that had previously been quiescent at his feet came alive, swept up around his legs and arms and waist and held him fast, despite his frantic wingbeats.

"How good to know he doesn't know you're here, Lordship." Evilseed said, dryly, moving closer as Buzzoff grunted and strained. It didn't rise, leaning to press its mouthform to one of the Andreenid's feet. Buzzoff spread his toes in surprise, glancing down before the vines sought to immobilize even his neck and curl around his antennae, holding fast anything that might so much as twitch. 

It continued kissing, working its way up the back arch of the Andreenid's heel as Buzzoff finally found his voice.

"Aah! What are you--doing?" 

Evilseed pushed up with both hands to kneel between Buzzoff's legs, attracted to his thighs and the soft, fine hairs there. The elemental promptly began to stroke and nuzzle at them with its face, hands resting at Buzzoff's bound hips.

"Let us both be honest," It murmured, the smallest of viney tongues slipping through the cracks in its mouthholes to caress the inside of Buzzoff's thigh, "If you will give me this, my little pollinator, and then bring me the locus, I will fix it for you here." 

Buzzoff grunted, unable to believe how pleasurable it felt for the plant to lick across and into the cracks of his chitinous armor, "Wh-... but-... you don't-..." His head was spinning, there was something in the air and his antennae were erect and throbbing with confusing signals. Pheromones? "--want freedom?"

Evilseed tutted, running its hands up and down the smooth legs with vigor, "You would never permit me release. You fear and hate what I am, and I cannot change what I am, nor would I wish to if you brought me magic to do so. Would you change what you are, to be free?"

The ex-slave's face hardened, and his wings struggled to beat reflexively against the vines. "No." 

Evilseed's fingertips found his crotch, thumbed up and down the ridges that protected it externally from grit and attack, and wormed tiny vines underneath the edges, exploring inside. 

"Agh!" Buzzoff's head was cloudy, he was already reacting to the strange closeness of the air and the intimacy with which the homunculus touched him, it had been a long time since anyone had looked at him that way, touched him that way, he had a duty to the hive, and none of the Masters were into _"bee people"_ , at least, none he had explored or dared ask, the way they treated him, the way his wings revolted them...

"You-..swear, you'll try to fix the crystal?" He gasped, the restriction and breaching of the armor under his loincloth making it difficult to speak evenly. 

"I swear it upon my maker."

Buzzoff had no way of knowing how deeply Evilseed respected its maker, nor of knowing how deeply Evilseed lusted after **him.** The Plantae incarnation was more in tune with nature than the wisest of the earth mages, by its very--nature. It knew how vital the Andreenids were to the ecosystem, to Eternia's dying, arid lands, of how few creatures could survive without the food grown by the farmers, of the great, tenuous balance that Mossman's worthless vapid tulips mocked... and so it was gentle in its grasping and careful in its explorations of his groin. 

Even so, Buzzoff couldn't help but feel a little panicky, not just because of the way Evilseed was engulfing him with vines, but because of what Evilseed was doing under his plating, what it would discover... 

"Wait," He managed through the throbbing, pleasant cloud, "Wait-..." 

Astonishingly, the incarnate actually did wait, the undulations of the vines against his limbs slacking, slowing, wondering if Buzzoff was going to renege on the deal that he - admittedly - had not been given time to answer properly. 

"My people-..." Buzzoff didn't exactly have the wherewithal to explain a whole history of socioeconomy and biology, "I'm - not what you might expect." He glanced away, and then retracted the armor slowly, revealing a glistening set of lips framing a small, alert nub. 

The Plantae's mouth went small for a moment, it blinked its 'eyes', and then rested its forehead against his abdomen. 

" _Lord_ you introduced yourself, lord you remain," Evilseed remarked, "All I expect, is that you hold me to my end of the bargain." 

Buzzoff was no longer actively struggling, though the vines around him were still present, pulsing with life, and Evilseed stood up to walk around him, leaning to kiss and suckle at his wingtip. For a moment he thought the elemental was hiding its disappointment about his genitals, but when Evilseed unprompted pulled an arm around his hips, and brushed carefully at the exposed and fattened lips. Buzzoff was dripping openly, stretching and moving by restricted inches toward the hand, even as vines crept up inside of him--inside of him!--and moved to circle and bind his clit, pulling it up, spreading his vagina, exposing him as the undulating tendrils pressed into him in ever increasing number. 

"Queen's sake--" He managed, squirming, trying to fuck himself against the vines to no avail, and then he felt a smooth mouth against the back of his neck. "--Are you going to keep me tied up the whole time?" 

The leafy homunculus caressed him, mildly confused seeming by the comment. "Tied-...? Oh! You don't. Like being held by me." It gestured, and the vines went slacker still, though still draped all across the Andreenid's form as if ...

As if they were an extension of Evilseed itself. 

"Is that what it is, to you? A hug?" Buzzoff was finding it hard to keep his voice even, with the vines still creeping inside him in overly friendly fashion, hard to believe that was a 'hug', but the elemental seemed genuine in its bafflement. He wondered for a moment if anyone had explained what Evilseed had done wrong to earn its first exile and imprisonment--and then realized he didn't _know himself_. 

His antennae perked, randier by the moment with the combination of the touches and Evilseed's unconditional acceptance of who and what he was - the elemental didn't even seem upset or surprised (and it could manage both those states, extremely blatantly and anthropomorphically) by his genitals, _lord you remain_ \-- by his request to fix the crystal, by--anything he'd done. It was _pushy_ and it was grabby but he wasn't even sure anymore if those were intentional things, either. He found himself wishing he'd consulted someone before coming here, being headstrong enough to think he could solve the problem himself. 

He was still dripping all down his thighs, and underneath him the dry earth rumbled pleasantly as roots lapped up his slick offering. 

Buzzoff glanced back as the vines lifted him off the ground again, this time a good deal more carefully, supporting each limb and tipping him back horizontal with the earth. Evilseed slid up between his splayed open legs and audaciously sucked his clit, and he forgot for a few moments that it may have been a bad idea to come here. The vines in his hole withdrew, only to make room for bigger, thicker vines, three of them, the primary one questing deep into him and rubbing all along his inner walls in search of teasing spots. Another, impossibly thin vine snaked up and into his urethra, another angle of attack on his g-spot. It was quickly becoming impossible to ignore. 

The arrogant Andreenid tried to bite back a moan as he chased a crest of pleasure from that sucking mouth, the vines that were stroking and touching and squeezing and constricting him everywhere, keeping his legs open audaciously wide and his wrists together above his head, tugging and stroking on his antennae as if he were mating one of his own. Evilseed never missed a trick, played his body like an instrument, but it wasn't only the touches, the caresses that were making him dizzy with pleasure.

Acceptance had been a long time coming for him, and he always kept himself aloof - even to some degree from his own kind. To have anyone simply acknowledge him, and then mate casually to him, was unheard of. 

He lost track of how many plants had slithered in and out of his holes, as somewhere along the way Evilseed had decided it was prudent to invade his every orifice, and he found it comforting to suckle a root as he was fucked mercilessly, still heady with the way his clit was ruthlessly rubbed over. He came quick, hard, and several times over before sagging in the vines like a puppet. He dimly registered Evilseed going back to kissing and stroking his now very wet, trembling thighs.

"My sweet, my darling, my good messenger," The elemental was cooing in a half-delirious-sounding way, kissing his damp legs as the vines withdrew from his orifices, left him stretched but satisfied--and did not relinquish their supportive grip all over him, hammock-like. He was so tired, so sleepy, he just ...closed his eyes a moment, just for a moment... 

And slept. 

And woke in coiled repose near the entrance of the root cellar, tucked under two thick roots with his wings down and back. He looked up, around, for the Plantae, but apparently Evilseed had retreated into the depth of the cellar and was nowhere readily available. 

Buzzoff pushed up, not really sure if he should--say anything, or if the homunculus would keep its word--but he had to come back, to try. Just. Get the gem, the locus--and come back. And see. 

He flew off feeling strangely satisfied with himself, and stranger still - optimistic.


End file.
